


This Is Where The Truth Begins

by Maka (JanaTearce)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassins vs. Templars, Fights, Friendship, Gen, People Change People, Realisations, Templar turned Assassin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaTearce/pseuds/Maka
Summary: Maria is not stuck with Altair and gets to think everything through at her own pace. Malik helps by being his charming self. Maybe the Assassins aren't so bad after all. The irony of Maria loving her freedom and being a Templar is just too agonising to leave it be.





	1. Step One

Each piece of furniture was a sudden, carefully calculate obstacle on the floor that spread out between them. Each drawer, each table, each shelf full of books a potential weapon. The vase would leave potential head injuries, the framed pictures bruises and cuts from the glass. 

It would take five steps and a heartbeat to get her down, Malik figured, but that didn't take his missing arm into account. Five steps, a heartbeat and some struggle. Chances were even one-armed he was still stronger than her, or maybe that was his ego being cocky because he wanted it to be that way.

Oddly enough she was trying to make herself look everything but a threat, though she stood tall and with her head held high. And yet she made no move towards him, as if she was waiting for him to attack but her stance betrayed her. She wasn't out for a fight.

She gestured for him to reveal the notebook Malik had pocketed beneath his coat. She smiled as she did so, the cross of the Templar Knights adoring her upper arm. Malik would have liked to say it was her nail polish, but it was too dark to properly see the colour and he was too far away anyway.

She was clever enough not to talk, she was clever enough to cover her face with a hood and she was clever enough to wear a different perfume. Whether that was because of him he wouldn't have been able to tell.

There was not enough certainty in his step to dart across the room just yet, and it was silly to think that some gut feeling kept him from killing her right where she stood. With a smile the templar took a step to the side, and then she moved her stance as if trying to challenge him. And now it was her being cocky.

Amused Malik snorted. If she wanted his blade in her throat that badly, all she had to do was ask. He wouldn't allow her to toy with him.

His body moved on its own with the flash on a heartbeat, when he saw the flex of her posture telling him she was going in for an attack.

He would have liked to say it were her eyes that he saw glimmering beneath the hood, just a split second before he ducked away and grabbed her to put her on course for the drawer. Instead of the open floor where she could have saved herself the bruises by rolling herself back onto her feet.

There was the satisfying crash of human body against wood. She must have bruised a rib because now her breath was heavy and she staggered a little, pressing an arm to her side. There came no words from her mouth, but she offered a shit-eating grin that was bloodied by where her lip had been split open.

No matter how many years of training, there was nothing to prepare you for how cramped an apartment suddenly was when you were in a fight. Even a mansion could seem suddenly small when you had to evade someone's attacks.

Malik would have liked to say it was in the way she adjusted her hood now, just to make sure he wouldn't see her face, but there was nothing extraordinary about that situation. They were all better off without showing their faces. Besides she hadn't seen his either, so there was no need to panic about something silly.

Her fist whirled towards him, knocking hard against his jaw and Malik could taste blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. They were even now, and she used that momentary confusion to yank the notebook from beneath his coat. Expertly fleeing his grasp and turning on her heel as she opened it to read.

Malik would have liked to say it was because he had knocked her hood off in a fight. How it had fallen from her face when he had held her over a railing.

He would have liked to say her phone went off and whatever new stupid ring or text tone she had given Altaïr had given her away, but this wasn't some stupid assassin movie with a dramatic reveal.

It was none of that and he couldn't even say what made him watch her instead of immediately going after her. Yet something familiar lingered in her presence, something he should have known on sight.

It was the fact that she tossed the notebook back into his hand and spoke. “Which one is it?” The tone of her voice dried his throat. Maria had no need to uncover her face now, and she didn't seem to think it necessary either, Malik was a pillar of salt at the sound of her voice. For a single, silly, little moment Malik would have liked to say or do something cliché.

Maria was a Templar.

The thought turned in sluggish circles around his brain, weaving its way through every station of importance as it started to sink in. Only to resurface and take the same slow spiral towards being a known fact in his head that wouldn't stick.

And he clutched the notebook, trying to form a coherent thought. “I don't know yet,” Malik growled at last. Yet he felt awkward and clumsy when the words came from his lips.

With a tilt of her head Maria smiled. “I believe you are lying,” she said with a shrug and leaned against the drawer. “I believe you're smarter than this, which makes it a shame that you are an assassin.”

There were a number of questions that immediately sprung to his mind, but Malik could only blink her, blink at the playful smile she displayed. Instead of humouring her and opening the notebook he stored it again beneath his coat.

“Don't do that,” Maria sighed, almost exasperated as if talking to a small child. “See,” she removed herself from the drawer in a slow motion. With slow steps she started to circle him, which prompted Malik to mirror her steps. “Here's the thing, we're friends – good friends. And I think you're pretty smart, so I'm going to give a one-time-only chance here. You get a good look at those lists,” she moved her hand to point at his chest where the notebook was hidden. “And then you find the one guy with the information for me, for the both of us, it's a win-win situation.”

When Malik showed no reaction she pushed through the invisible line they had been walking on and took a deliberate step towards him. “However I can't let you keep it.” There was an unspoken threat in her words and Maria flexed her hands as if to make sure Malik knew she would fight for it. “You memorise the names you need to and I get that notebook. That's the deal.”

Malik wanted to ask her why. He wanted to feel betrayed, but somehow there was more disappointment in him at the moment and he wanted to tell her that. Instead his shoulders dropped and he said, “then you also know that that's not going to happen.”

There was a pause. They were at an impasse. An impasse they had been taught to fight out until they were bruised and bloody and one of them cold and dead. So Maria grabbed a picture and knocked the frame edge first into his ribs, knocking the air out of him but putting a grin on his lips as he realised she was waiting for him to recover his breath.

“Now we're even,” Maria explained, though she didn't have to. And he nodded, as a chuckle disrupted his heaving breath.

Yes, now they were even, equally bruised and bloodied and then there was another pause, because every outside influence had taught them to go for the throat and maybe make out at the end of it if movies where to be trusted. Yet neither of those options seemed awfully appealing to him and Maria seemed to think the same.

*

Malik had half a mind to order something, but you had to be a special combination of stupid and hungry to think using your victims phone didn't have any consequences. So they had to resort to raiding the poor guys fridge, and Maria slapped him when she saw the corpse on the kitchen floor. There was a pool of blood on the grey tiles which had been starting to dry since she had walked in on him.

“Really, Malik?” She glared at him with playful disgust. “The kitchen?” But she was already across the room, searching fridge and cupboards.

His arm hurt where she had slapped him, but so did his chest and his tongue where he'd bitten it. The pain had become an ongoing stab, a twinge that wouldn't go away, so to distract himself he tried take in his surroundings more closely.

It was a small kitchen, all white tiles and wooden cupboards, a strangely grey-tiled floor with a puddle of blood and several other red splotches, nothing out of the ordinary for the most part, but it subtly hinted at the impressive income its owner had had. And if you ignored the body and the blood you could almost see the family dinners being prepared.

“Ugh.” Maria wrinkled her nose, displeasure lining her features.

Malik raised an eyebrow to convey his unspoken question.

“There's no wine!” Maria complained and set a six-pack hard on the counter top. “Can't he just pretend to be pretentious asshole of a Templar and have at least a single bottle of wine?”

Leaning against the counter Malik thought about the absurdity of their situation, trying not to smile at her. The unwanted realisation that he wasn't going to kill a Templar because he considered her his friend – one of his best friends, but he wasn't going to tell her that now – was making him slow in movement of body and mind. She had stacked what looked to be the condiments of future sandwiches on the counter, but when she turned to look at him there was a frown on her face.

Like always she wore her hair up, but only now it made sense. It was braided on both sides of her head forming the line of a wreath, and pinned up at the back of her head.

The thought made Malik feel a little stupid, but it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Not the romantic way, but the you're-not-person-I-thought-you-were-way. The one that should make you reconsider everything you knew about that person up until now. So Malik wasn't sure exactly why the logical conclusion for him was to help her with the sandwiches.

They sat across each other on the kitchen counters eating in silence and drinking beer, and Maria made a face every so often when thirst won over her dislike for beer that made Malik's lips quirk up. They were going to get in trouble if there wasn't going to be a second body tonight, or if their lies were uncovered.

When they decided to speak they both spoke at the same time, which made them stop in their tracks, dumbfound. Malik frowned, grumbled something in between bites and Maria giggled.

“Actually it's sad, all that potential… and you waste it on being an assassin.”

“Ditto. But you and the Templars” He sneered.

“You insult me.” There was no fight in her voice, just the smirk on her mouth he had hoped for.

“I love you too.” Malik muttered between bites. And it meant no more that they were on the same page and nothing had changed, only that everything had changed.

Maria's legs swung, her heels hitting the cupboard beneath each time and she laughed. “I really don't get it though,” she said and the frown from before returned. “You're smarter than this. You're...” Something unspoken lingered on her lips but she washed it down with a swallow of beer and a smile. Then she shook her head. “You seek freedom, but what I see is chaos wherever you go. You collect the pieces of Eden and for what? You have no intention of using them.”

“Why would you want to use them?” There was a curiosity in his voice that she didn't know of. It was beyond him why Maria of all wanted control over humanity, when you needed to fear her kicks if you tried to confine her.

“Oh, don't tell me, you don't think humanity needs a nudge and some guidance,” she stared him down with all-knowing eyes. “You despair at the thought we might be the peak of creation whenever you look at Altaїr.”

Instead of answering her questions Malik retorted with a question of his own. “You lashed out against a guy two days ago because he wouldn't let you finish a sentence during what was supposed to be a date. What makes you think they'll stop at you? Just because you're one of them? You understand that-”

“You don't understand what you're talking about.” She grinned at him through gritted teeth, the grip around her bottle tightening.  
He let her believe that. For now.


	2. Step Two

There was no gun in her hand when she opened the door, still Malik's breath stopped for a moment and he tensed. On all accounts his current actions were most definitely what could be considered suicidal. Which assassin in their right mind went to visit a templar?

“Leave,” Maria sighed. She had pulled the door open till the chain on its lock strained. Her fingers curled around the door, she stared at him. “Don't start being as stupid as Altaїr,” she scolded him, with that little frown on her head. It could have been mistaken for pleading by anyone who didn't know any better, but Maria didn't beg. She also almost never wore here hair down, but now it was, decorated in braids over her shoulder.

Malik had went over the conversation so many times, he was almost sure it had already happened. He had been almost certain she would try to kill him the moment she saw him. Put a gun to his head or plunge one of her kitchen knives into his stomach, but all he seemed to be today was just another nuisance. It was almost comforting. Almost funny. 

Swaying the bottle of wine in his hand, he seemed to pull her attention into focus. Maria smiled graciously. “Clever Malik,” she muttered. Her hand reached up towards the chain, but stopped halfway. She reconsidered and tried to grab the bottle from his hand. Easily Malik evaded her thieving fingers when he took a step backwards.

“Let me in”, he asked quietly. It was almost a plea, but Malik also didn't beg.

Maria considered, her eyes fixed on the wine, Malik's eyes fixed on her, awaiting her next move. Slowly she nodded. The door closed almost, the lock clicking faintly as it fell into place and she withdrew the chain from its holding place.

When her face emerged again and the way was cleared, Malik bowed his head in appreciation. He could feel her eyes now fixed on him.

Maria was gracious enough not to throw him out after she had taken the wine from him, which Malik took as a good sign.

It felt alien and yet familiar. Although he'd been here plenty more times, just now it felt like an invasion of a strangers territory where he was suffering a déjà vu.

*

Maria had clustered her living room with a myriad of paperwork that made Malik curiously glance over the sheets quickly recognising them for the work of templars. Another time she might have tried to hide it in a hurry, not now. Whatever was he supposed to make out of that, he wondered and shot her a questioning glance. Had she become careless, or just decided it didn't matter?

There was only a shrug in response and though Maria did collect several stacks of paper to make new, even bigger stack of paper, it seemed to only make room for him. Malik noted that she kept a considerable distance between them both, and perhaps that was for the best.

She pointed him to sit and went to grab two glasses that she filled generously with wine, almost shoving it into his hand. “Why are you here?” Maria's voice was poignant, her words jagged and lacking patience. Like he had interrupted her.

“I think you wanted to strain my patience with a movie and ultimately complain when I would fall asleep and miss the best part – did I get everything?” 

His words only moved her to drink a swallow of wine. “I have no recollection of that”, she lied. “You shouldn't even be here. You're not my target.”

Malik shrugged. “I know.” And then, “Altair is.” It only seemed to surprise her for a moment that he knew. “You're not a born templar, are you?”

That seemed to surprise her. She had flinched slightly at his words, but quickly recovered. “But you're a born assassin, a raised killer. Just like your brother. Just like Altaїr.” It seemed to him she didn't know what to make of that information, but why he couldn't tell and if she knew, Maria kept that secret well hidden.

He wanted to ask her how much she knew, but Malik was sure he wouldn't get an answer. So instead he asked, “why are you a templar?”

“Why are you an assassin? Why is anyone anything?” Maria scoffed, prodding a stack of paper with her foot. “It's a shame, I liked you,” her eyes turned towards him, then back to the wine in her hand. “Now I'll have to kill you.” She sounded almost disappointed.

Swirling the wine in his glass Malik pondered, he had no proper answer to her question, but he wasn't going to admit that. “You know what I think–”

“I think, you think too much and talk too little.”

“I think you're not going to kill me.”

That made her angry. “Why?” she demanded.

“Why, you wouldn't have anyone else to argue with,” Malik explained matter-of-factly. The corners of his mouth quirked, as if amused by her reaction. He set the glass aside, where Maria would be able to take it. Malik wasn't in the mood for drinking, he had simply bought the bottle to be able to offer her an entrance fee. Or maybe a peace treaty. Cease fire. Whatever this was right now.

Out of all people he knew, Maria was the one he would have never mistaken for a templar. It wasn't in her nature, but she just happened to be brilliantly blind to that. It was almost tragic, Malik thought. “What are you working on?”, he asked gesturing at the paperwork surrounding them.

Maria only shot him a glance that asked if he really expected an honest answer. If it were any other person Malik might not have winced. Though it was her who backed away when he got up and walked around her to get to shelves of DVDs.

“What are you doing?”

Malik sighed, heaving the whole of his upper body. He had grabbed a random film of the shelf and waved it around aimless as he turned to speak to her. “I demand you follow your words with actions and bore me to sleep like you promised you would. You know I was looking forward to my nap.” He managed to sound almost disappointed.

“You're out of your mind!” Maria threw a hand up in despair, only one as not to spill the wine that she drank then. She got up, and marched towards him. “Not that one, silly,” she told him, as she grabbed the DVD from his hand and shelved it.

*

Malik had chosen not to question her. He didn't quite know where that notion had come from, but it seemed the right thing to do and Maria, who had expected him to argue didn't know how to deal with it.

She came at him in an outburst of rage, of not understanding, of frustration and confusion. “Why are you like this,” she fussed. It wasn't a question. Lately Maria had forgotten how to ask questions, she had gone over to stating demands.

The only answer she got was shrug. She wouldn't like hearing it now, what he had to say, but maybe some day that would change Malik hoped.

Chewing on the nail of her thumb she glared at him. “I should have killed you. You are a dead man walking, don't you know that. You were in the way.”

“And you didn't”, Malik noted professionally, without looking from his notebook. Though he sensed Maria was ready to slam her fists down onto the table and spill their coffee everywhere. “I would like you to think about why.”

“I would like you to think about why you didn't kill me,” she mocked him.

With a sigh Malik stopped writing, he straightened himself and waved his hand in a slow manner to signal her to lower her voice. People were starting to stare and even the wait staff glanced curiously at them. “As a matter of fact, I wouldn't want to have to lie to Altaїr for the rest of my life. So what is your excuse?”

Closing her eyes Maria took a deep breath. She muttered, “you're a wasted talent on the Assassins, you'd make a great templar.” Malik raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don't look at me like that, you Mister, were born to slander humanity,” for the first time in a long while Malik saw her smirking. “You would enjoy it.”

Whatever reaction she expected from him, it was hard to read on her if she got it, though she did not seem displeased.


End file.
